Firebird Rising
by 1Superman4Me
Summary: Phoenix Storm has done her best to put her past as far behind as possible but, when it starts to catch up with her, could there be consequences? ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

Finally.

I'm free from THEM.

Knew they'd never feel like family anyway. I mean, fuhgeddaboudit.

They were just control and pain. I fucking EARNED that money I took. That I'm schlepping with my stuff in my favorite backpack.

Well, it's my only one but it's still cool. It's orange, blue and red like fire.

Red like the new hair extensions and iPod with fucking awesome music I bought myself.

Also got myself a hoodie. It's black like my earbuds (also new) and waterproof.

Hey, whaddaya expect? I'm from Brooklyn. It rains, OK?

And maybe rain can wash away the shit that I went through.

Hi, by the way.

The name's Phoenix. Phoenix Storm.

Cool, right?

I gave it to myself. Didn't like Heather Smith.

That's the name my real parents gave me. I don't talk about them much. They abandoned me when I was 10.

You'd think I showed them I killed something but no.

I just showed them my powers.

Yeah, I said powers.

I can heal but I've discovered that the longer what I'm healing takes to heal in real life, the harder it is to heal.

I can teleport but it can't be to a place I haven't been or just don't fucking remember.

Last but not least comes shape-shifting. My favorite power, really.

It's into birds. Any bird. Can't talk while I'm a bird, though.

Hey, I just have the powers, I don't make the fucking rules! I'm 12, for fuck's sake!

Sorry.

As for my physical appearance, well, I'm 5'2''. Good thing I'm tallish cause, hey, I'm on the run. Still will prolly get stares though.

Maybe it's because my eyes don't match. My left one's blue like a fucking perfect-for-flying-in sky and my other's storm gray.

Not that I chose my last name because of that.

No, that I got from Like a Storm. Wearing a T-shirt for them by the way. I like music and they're a band from New Zealand. They're brothers.

Maybe I'll have some...  
Focus.

Let's see.

Told you a little about my hoodie.

It's got a coupla of pockets. One with my new iPod, one empty. It's black and I know I already told you that but, other than the red hair extensions (obviously) so's my waist-length hair, jeans and tennis shoes. Got red laces, though.

Yep, I'm Brooklyn casual and have Brooklyn in my voice. Pride!

I'm headed to Gotham though.

Yes, I can handle myself.

I've got one hell of a right hook from time spent at Gleason's Gym and I'm fucking quick on my feet.

Plus there's always my sarcasm.

Just as good as some of my likes.

Maybe not the flying, especially fast, because, fuck yeah, I'm a peregrine falcon but maybe the reading and sleeping in. Maybe as good as candy, even if it's fruit flavored and my glorious Dr Pepper or an egg cream.

Yeah, I'll prolly miss getting the latter but at least I know how to make em.

Okay. Here my stop.

Getting off the bus and...Fuck.

Somebody's hurt. Bad.

"Hey, the name's Phoenix. Phoenix Storm. Looks like you got fucked up just so I can save your ass."

He rolls his eyes.

I ignore him and, finding myself feeling a little nervous, start to heal him.

Healing...  
healing...  
still fucking healing...  
Done.

Whoa.

I finish feeling light-headed.

"Hey, dude, you wanna..."

I nearly pass out.

He catches me and draws all 6 feet of his black haired, blue eyed self up.

"Hey, the name's Jason! Jason Todd. Looks like you saved my ass just so you can come to my place to crash."

I remember asking if I can stay forever, him saying not to push it, me saying my birthday's July 5th and that's soon so, please, please can I stay, I mean, it's not like there's anyone that I'll miss.

Just before I end up falling asleep on his couch, I hear him say "I'll think about it, OK, kid?"


	2. Chapter 1

_Jason's P.O.V

This kid. I'm looking at her.

Trying to figure out why she helped me. Healed me.

She's a fucking Meta!

Phoenix.

Huh.

Sure, it kinda suits her but I don't think it's her real name.

I can tell she's not from here but she kinda makes me think of myself.

What's she hiding?

I find an iPod in one of her jacket pockets. I scroll through it.

Three Days Grace, Linkin Park, Alter Bridge, Shinedown, Breaking Benjamin, Seether, Halestorm, Evans Blue and Like a Storm.

Never heard of the last two but, damn, she's got good fucking taste!

I put the iPod back then roll up her left sleeve and find bruises running up the inside. I curse under my breath when I find out that her other arm's the same way.

That's got to be why she said she won't miss anyone. Wonder who did that though.

Cool pack. Looks like fire.

That's gotta be where she chose the name Phoenix.

Maybe I could call her Nyx cause of all the black she wears...  
Focus.

Clothes including a lot of band shirts and black jeans.

Steven Gould's _Jumper_. Karen Kincy's _Other_. Another book that I can tell is a favorite that I find wrapped in a Brooklyn Cyclones shirt with hat. _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn_.

Must be where she's from.

A wallet with $5,000 and a Brooklyn library card for a Heather Smith.

Got her name and where she's from.

She doesn't really look like a Heather though.

I put the stuff back in.

"No, don't leave me. Please! Mom! Dad! I won't use the powers, OK? Just don't leave me! I don't wanna be fostered!"

They just abandoned her? Harsh.

Wait.

Powers.

She can do more than heal? Whoa.

"Don't hurt me, I followed your rules. Please!"

I clench my fists. First her parents up and leave her, then her foster parents abuse her?

I'm starting to like this kid. Even though she went through some shit, she's got a good heart. Sure, she kinda hides it but who the hell am I to judge her for that?

She's staying here with me, I know it.

I smile then gently wake her up and tell her.

She grins and gives me a fist bump.

I'm not sure whether I'm more surprised that I'm giving one back or knowing that it feels like a sign I made the right choice. "OK, kid, I just have to ask you a few things..."

_Phoenix's P.O.V

"You're from Brooklyn?"

I don't even try to keep the pride out of my voice when I say Yes.

"What other powers do you have?"

"Teleportation, I call it porting, and..." I look around the room then jump and shift into a peregrine falcon while in mid-air because it's so much more fucking fun that way.

His eyes widen. "No fucking way!"

I fly around the room then stop above the couch and shift back. "I can only do birds. Can't talk as one though."

He runs one hand through his hair. "And you're how old?"

I find myself fidgeting. "12."

He raises his eyebrows. "12?"

I can't help but curl up into a tight ball before I squeak out a Yes.

"Hey, it's OK."

I slowly uncurl from my ball and look at him.

"You just seem older, that's all."

I kick with my right foot. "Guess having your parents abandon you so you end up in a foster home with fucking abusive and controlling shits has that kinda effect on a girl. Never felt like I could do anything right with the Pierces." I get up quick then take my best fighting stance. "No way am I going back, you mook. Fuhgeddaboudit."

"Easy, kid. I wasn't gonna make you. No way. You're staying with me, like I said. Safe."

I relax my stance but I still feel a little tense. Nervous. Scared. "You mean you won't abandon me? Ever?" I curse under my breath, hating how vulnerable that made me sound.

"No, Nyx. I promise I'll never abandon you."

I grin wider, liking the nickname and the promise so much I find myself hugging him.

He seems a little startled at first but he hugs me back. "You've got yourself a brother, Fifi."

I let go and find myself quickly decking him.

"Fuck, Nyx, that hurt!"

I scuff my feet then roll my eyes and heal him. "Sorry, Jay-Todd, but I am not a fucking poodle!"


	3. Chapter 2

To Guest: If I want a fucking man-splainer, I'll ask for one. We understand each other? Good.  
On with the story.

* * *

I feel myself being nudged and it wakes me up. "What did I do? Oh, God, don't hurt me please."

"Hey, calm down, it's just me, Jay-Todd, remember?"

I nod.

"Kay, good, I was thinking you could meet the others today."

I flip over the couch then curl into a ball and shake while whispering no over and over.

I hear soft footsteps then feel Jason gently tapping my right shoulder. "Hey, Nyx, it'll be okay."

I get up quickly then glare at him. "How the fuck can you say that? I was okay with you because you kinda make me think of myself but..." I felt tears coming so I angrily wipe my eyes then find myself whispering that I don't know if I feel ready.

He smiles. "You're tough. I know you can be ready."

I rake my fingers through my hair. "Kay, just let me change my shirt."

I open then rummage through my pack, grab my Into the Wild Life T-shirt, it's for Halestorm because Lzzy is just so fucking awesome and come back a few minutes later wearing it with my hoodie of course.

He laughs. Okay, let's go."

I hear him say on the way to where we're going that he can hardly wait to see the fucking look on Bruce's face.

When we arrive, my eyes widen. "Holy fucking shit, this place is huge!"

It feels ostentatious and kinda imposing. What the fuck have I got myself into?

As soon as I'm shown in, some guy shows up. "Master Jason! What a surprise. I see you've brought a guest as well."

Master Jason?

"The name is Phoenix, Jeeves."

He smiles. "Right this way, Miss Phoenix. Masters Bruce and Dick will be charmed to meet you."

I snicker at the name Dick and soon find myself in what must be the living room.

The two guys in it look at me. The shorter one seems nice but the seriousness in the taller one's ice blue eyes is fucking unnerving.

Shit, I just said that out loud.

The shorter one laughs. "I'm Dick and I like you already, Firecracker."

I scuff with my right foot. "The name's Phoenix, actually, but, hey, since Jason calls me Nyx, I'm cool with you calling me Firecracker. It's a hell of a lot better than Fifi."

Bruce raises one eyebrow. "Where did you get that potty mouth?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, to slightly paraphrase Lewis Black, I come from a place where fuck isn't even a word, it's a comma."

Dick squeals. "Ooh, my new little sister comes from New York!"

I scowl. "Brooklyn! I'm from Brooklyn, the county of kings, you fucking squealy mook!"

Jeeves comes in. "Like Betty Smith's Tree, miss?"

I smile. "Yeah, but it sure as hell isn't Francie's Brooklyn anymore. Williamsburg's got a whole lotta Jews, Jeeves."

His brown eyes seem to get warmer. "I'm Alfred. Welcome to Wayne Manor, miss."

I hesitantly thank him while saying I like his accent. Well, I kinda mumbled the last bit, actually, while my stomach growled really fucking loud.

I blush and scuff the floor, hearing the Pierces in my head say "You can wait until lunch, you stupid fucking brat."

Dick smiles warmly. "It's okay to be hungry, Firecracker."

Alfred leaves the room.

"What did I do?"

Bruce chuckles. "He's probably getting snacks. It feels like a moral obligation for him."

Oh.

I hum I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here from _Annie_.

By the time I've finished, I hear Alfred calling me.

What? I have good hearing, I already established that with you. Sure as hell was a help when I was with the Pierces.

Mmm.

I smell something good.

Bacon.

I follow my nose.

"How would you like your eggs, miss?"

"Scrambled with cheese and mushrooms, please."

What did I do, indeed.

Soon, I'm wolfing down eggs, bacon and buttered toast feeling way too hungry to care what everybody's thinking. I finish by chugging a glass of pulp free orange juice, slamming it down, then burping like a trucker.

Jason whistles. "Daaamn."

I wipe my mouth on my right arm and grin, wide and toothy, until I realize it made said sleeve slide up. "Fucking shit!"

I rush to cover my bruises but I can tell by the look on Dick's face that he has already seen them.

I nervously do the first thing that pops into my head. Port back to the living room.

I hear a whistle that I'm guessing came from Dick, a grunt I'm sure came from Bruce and a "my word" that had to come from Alfred.

What am I doing now, you may ask?

Shaking in a ball behind the couch because I showed my powers like a bad girl. Like the fucking waste of space I'm told I am. That I secretly fear I'll always be.

I hear footsteps then slowly look up and am met by a grinning Dick. "Cool, Firecracker! What else can you do?"

Guess it's time for a power show-and-tell.


	4. Chapter 3

I'm in the form of a peregrine falcon when I hear someone walk into the room.

"Hey, a little bit of New York came by."

If he only knew.

Jason snorts.

Dick grins. "Timmy!"

I take in this "Timmy". He's a little taller than me and like Dick, Jason and Bruce, he's got black hair and blue eyes.

Since I can't use two powers at once, I decide to simply shift back then roll my eyes. "Brooklyn, actually."

His eyes widen. "You're a Meta?"

"Yep." I pop the p. "Got a fucking problem with it?"

"No. Just, well...What else can you do?"

"The shape-shifting is only into birds but not a phoenix, like my name. I can also heal and teleport."

He grins. "A jumper. Very Steven Gould."

I nod. "Personally, I call it porting." I fake gag. "The Jumper movie was shit."

"Seconded! But one must not judge a book by its movie. Hey, there's a really good Fall Out Boy song called The Phoenix. Have you ever heard it?"

"Nope. But I do like the Halestorm song I Am the Fire."

"That anything like the song Girl on Fire?"

"Fuck, no! Lzzy's way more awesome."

I don't say that she's like my hero but I do say she did a version of Shed Some Light with Brent Smith from Shinedown.

Dick smiles. "I like the Shinedown song Never Gonna Let Go. I sang it for Babs after we married."

I smirk, hiding the slight embarrassment I feel over not noticing his ring earlier. "So you're an acrobat."

He curses under his breath then scuffs. "Well, I guess you should know the word you are looking for is aerialist, actually."

I clap sarcastically. "Bra-vo. Now do a trick."

He rolls his eyes then does a flip, lands on his hands and proceeds to walk around the room on them.

Shit, he makes it look so fucking effortless. Like he's riding a bike, though, maybe, I should say a unicycle. Not that I really know much about the circus. I fucking hate clowns.

He gets up and bows over-dramatically.

I chuckle and clap. "Yay for Dickie Wayne."

He sniffs. "For your information, I am a Grayson."

"And I'm a Drake."

"I'm a Storm who's now wondering if this is Wayne Manor, where are the fucking Waynes?"

"I'm the last of the "fucking" Waynes. My parents, as everyone but you know, Phoenix, were killed by a robber when I was 8."

My eyes widen but I quickly regain my composure. "Well, I'm not going to pity you for that. In fact, I'm pretty fucking sure pity's something nobody in this room wants."

"Crude but aptly put, miss."

"Uncultured? Me? That's fucking rude, Jeeves. I've been to more museums than I care to remember."

Jason barks a laugh.

"Well, we do have fine art here, miss, if you ever care to see it."

I smirk. "Any Jackson Pollock?"

Tim laughs. "Damn, you're quick."

I shrug my shoulders. "It's a Brooklyn thing, whaddaya expect? Oh, and Alfred?"

"Yes, miss?"

"It's libraries Brooklyners like. I got my first card when I was 3."

"Well, that means we both like reading. What's your favorite genre?"

"Fantasy." I don't say it's because I read to escape. To immerse myself in the story and tune out the world.

"So Tamora Pierce is a favorite?"

I can't help but flinch at the name Pierce.

"You were abused by a family ccalled Pierce, weren't you?"

I glare at Bruce. "What, are you afucking detective or some shit? Because, if you aren't, it's so none of your fucking business, asshole!"

He puts his hands up. "Easy there."

I narrow my eyes, now in a full blown Brooklyn rage and roar. "EASY? FUCK YOU!"

I knock him to the ground. "You just don't get it, do you, rich boy?"

I calm down as he picks himself up. "You just don't know. Can't understand what it's like."

I slowly take my hoodie off then, after tying it around my waist, show my bruises and flip him off with both hands. "Fuck your easy."

Dick gasps. "Firecracker, did your family do this to you?"

I shake my head. "They were no fucking family of mine, that's for sure. Sometimes I think it's something I never really had."

"So you were a foster child. Did you know your birth parents?"

I clench and un-clench my fists then decide to put it in a way I hope they might not get. "They gave the Emily to Jessie treatment when I was 10."

Dick's eyes widen.

Oh, fuck, he knows! He fucking knows!

And, judging by the look on his face, so does "Timmy".

"They abandoned you, Firecracker?"

God, I hate the concern in his voice. Like he's afraid I'll break.

I angrily tell him so.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm 12, Moneybags."

"12 and you're already almost as tall as me. Man, I hate being short."

I snicker, remembering my parents were tall. "Well, to add insult to injury, I should admit that I'll prolly pass you in a few years."

He scowls. "Great. Thanks so much for telling me that. It totally gives me something to look forward to."

I grin. "No fucking problem! Now, howzabout you play me that Fall Out Boy song you mentioned?" I rub my hands together. "I do like me some music."

He rolls his eyes then grins. "As the firebird wishes."

Oh, this is so totally going to be put on my iPod!Fir


	5. Chapter 4

I wake up a little early because today is my thirteenth birthday. Well, that and I want to get a fly in.

I port to the roof then jump and, while in mid-air, shift into a peregrine falcon. Still haven't figure out how to do a phoenix, even though it would be pretty fucking awesome. Maybe someday.

God, such a nice day to fly.

I swoop then end up catching a thermal. You'll have to take my word for it when I tell you that I'm laughing on the inside.

Mmm. That warm air feels sooo good.

I catch sight of Jay-Todd.

Ooh. Maybe he's picking up a prezzie for me.

Since I want to be surprised, I quickly fly past him. After all, I do love flying fast. I mean, hell yes, I got a need for fucking speed.

After about 15 minutes, I fly back then, after landing on the roof and shifting back, port into the living room.

I end up startling Jay-Todd a little. "Sorry."

He laughs. "It's no big, birthday girl. Enjoy your fly, Nyx?"

"Fuck, yes!"

"I thought so, little sis. Damn, you're a teenager now. How's it feel?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Not much different, really. You wanna port to the Manor with me?"

He nods. "I've got everything."

So my prezzie is prolly pocket sized.

When we get there, I'm greeted by Dick, Babs, Tim, Bruce and Alfred.

I admit to feeling a bit flustered by all the attention. Well, that could also be because I didn't have any birthday celebrations when I was with the Pierces.

The closest thing I got was the librarians wishing me a happy birthday. One year, I was presented with a saved copy of Edith Pattou's East complete with an interview with the author. Good book, by the way. I liked it a lot.

I shake off the memory and look at the five gifts and food on the table.

I nervously run one hand through my hair then load up a plate. Trust me, flying makes you hungry.

Jason laughs. "Oh, you're definitely my sister. Way to carbo-load, Nyx."

I shrug my shoulders. "It's a Brooklyn thing. We take our carbs very seriously. So seriously that fights can be started over the mentioning of a favorite pizza place."

"What if, hypothetically, you're from Chicago?"

"Well, Tim, you're a heathen and a tourist. So you can fuck off, either by going back home to Times Square."

"Nice to have more than one option."

I laugh. "Come on, we're not that jaded." I tend to be bitter though. However, you'd prolly be too if you'd been through what I have.

Soon, it's time for cake.

I smile when I notice donut holes around it.

The candles are lit and everyone's singing.

Almost everyone calling me something different.

Miss Phoenix from Alfred.  
Phoenix from Bruce.  
Firecracker from Dick and Babs.  
Firebird from Tim.  
Nyx from Jason.

Best of all, no insults. Even better, the warm feeling I'm getting, knowing that I'm part of a family.

Why should I even make a wish when I have that?

I just blow out the candles but I still end up getting cheered.

Bruce hands me his gift first. It's wrapped in black. I open it to find a smart phone with a charger.

I can't help but grin when I see the phoenix emblazoned on the back in red, orange and blue.

"The service plan's paid for and you have the phone numbers needed to reach everyone in this room put among your contacts. The phoenix on your phone is heat-sensitive so your phone, if needed, will automatically call for help."

Babs smiles. "Try not to get mad over the fact that it was my idea. Believe me, I know the stubborn type when I see it."

"Two things, Gingie. One, as a Brooklyn, I make no promises in regards to my temper. Two, I much prefer the word determined."

She laughs. "Fair enough."

After I put the phone in my right pants pocket, Babs hands me her gift, wrapped in green. I am not in the least bit surprised that it's a laptop but, just for shits and giggles, I gasp dramatically.

She laughs again. "I'll give your regards to Broadway."

'"Fuck that!"

This gets a laugh from everyone.

Dick is the next to hand me his gift, wrapped in sky blue. It's two shirts.

One being a black T-shirt for L'amours. You add the s when you're from Brooklyn and it's our rock capital.

The other shirt's a black nightshirt with a phoenix on it and red, orange and blue letters that say Firebird Fly.

Tim pouts. "Damn it, guys! That's what I call her."

I fold up both shirts then roll my eyes. "You gonna accuse them of co-opting just because I like both shirts? Because, if you are, that's pretty fucking petty of you. If it isn't Tom, it's a heartbreaker."

Music humor. I fucking love it.

He breathes out slowly. "No, Firebird, I won't accuse them of co-opting. It's a pretty awesome shirt."

He hands me his gift, wrapped in red. I open it to find Melissa Grey's _The Girl at Midnight_ trilogy and Hannah West's _Kingdom of Ash and Briars_.

"Thanks, T-bird! I've always wanted to read that series."

He grins. "Not a problem, Firebird, I really think you'll like it. Same with the other book."

My fingers itch with the desire to open the first book and start reading now but I have yet to open Jay-Todd's gift.

He hands it to me, wrapped in gray. I open it to find a red Swiss army knife that has, engraved in black, the words For Nyx.

My grin widens. "Cool! I've been wanting one of these."

Dick laughs. "Damn it, Jaybird, you've got Firecracker all excited over a weapon."

I roll my eyes and scowl then end up saying in unison with Jay-Todd, "Damn you, Dick, it's way more fucking practical than a nightshirt!"

I run one hand through my hair. "Both shirts are pretty bitchin' though, don't get me wrong. It's just that a right hook and Brooklyn manners only get you so far, you get me? There are reasons I don't like taking the subway."

Babs nods then rolls her eyes. "Yeah, no kidding." She grins. "I can say I've got my own wheels."

I laugh. "Way to go, Gingie. Traveling in style!"

She laughs. "That's a nice way of looking at it, Firecracker. Will I be accused of co-opting if I use it?"

I smile and shake my head then, after putting my knife in my other pants pocket, eagerly open Melissa Grey's _The Girl at Midnight_ to warm laughter from Alfred.

"Enjoy your book, miss, and the rest of your birthday as well. I'll get a sandwich bag for the leftover donut holes."

I end up eating them while I read the book. After all, both are better than one.

* * *

Babs's P.O.V

* * *

Phoenix is a good kid but something doesn't add up.

I use the few clues I have to search the records for foster care in Brooklyn.

No...  
No...  
No...  
Wait.

That's definitely Firecracker.

Does she have a twin?

No.

It's just her name is not Phoenix.

God.

She wanted to put that, of all things, behind her?

How were the Pierces even allowed to foster when they did something as terrible as that?

I've got to tell the others.

More importantly, I have to talk to Phoenix.


	6. Chapter 5

Heads up: Attempted rape (though it doesn't really get anywhere)

* * *

It's a nice day today. Think I'll go for a walk and hey, I'll get some sites I can port to out of it. Bonus!

I inhale a cinnamon raisin bagel (that I toasted and buttered) with a cup of pulp free orange juice.

Then, shortly, I'm headed out wearing my Shinedown T-shirt, black jeans with my phone in my right pocket and wallet in the left one, my tennis shoes and my hoodie (with my earbudded iPod and Swiss army knife in its pockets).

Man, this city sure as hell isn't Brooklyn.

It seems almost...darker. And hungry. Like it wants what it can't seem to have but will still continue to try its damndest to get.

Yeah, I don't know where I'm going with that so have at it for all I care.

I also notice the smell's different here. Not that it comes as much of a surprise, really, but I still haven't been able to come up with the right words for it. In fact, I'm not even sure I want to.

Gotham doesn't really feel like home to me. I mean, sure I have a family here but the Brooklyn in my voice, not that I mind it, will always mark me as an outsider. Tell the people here that I clearly don't belong.

I wonder if Alfred ever feels that way. If he ever finds himself missing England, like I kinda miss Park Slope or, as I grew up calling it, the slope. Granted, I don't know much about England but I've heard tourists saying that Europe's nice.

Oh, fuck. Wait. Brexit.

Is England still considered part of Europe? How the fuck should I know? I'm from Brooklyn, my geography knowledge is definitely not something worth bragging about.

Wait. You have a phone now, Phoenix, you can look up shit like this.

Pulling it out. Of course, I have it on. Honestly, how stupid do you think I am?

Now then. Opening Google. Feeling kind of silly for doing it but typing in "Is Britain still considered part of Europe?"

To make a long answer short, yes.

Closed Google, put phone back into pocket and...Fuck.

Well, it looks like I was stupid enough to get myself surrounded by no less than 5 no-goodniks. Big ones.

Least I'm not stupid enough not to know how to fight back. I pull out my Swiss army knife with my right hand then take on my best fighting stance.

"Look, Bill, the little bitch thinks that she can take us on."

I push back the memory the words "little bitch" threaten to bring back screaming to life and scowl. "I don't think I can take you mooks on, I know I can."

He spits, just missing my right shoe. "You're not even from here so you're trying to act all tough but you're just some stupid chick."

"I'M NOT STUPID!"

Man, I wish it wasn't so hard to port when I'm surrounded. No, wait, I prolly shouldn't let them see me port or shift.

Oh God, what do they want with me? What are they going to do to me?

I duck and weave, trying to fight my way out, but one of them grabs my hair and slams me into a wall, knocking the wind out of me and making me see stars.

I felt my Swiss army knife fall back into my pocket. One of the guys reaches for it...No, he's reaching for my zipper.

"Fucking shit!"

I block the memory threatening to come and kick him in the balls as hard as I can.

He tries to backhand me but I duck and pull out my cell phone which I notice is already in the process of calling the police and I swear the assholes know somehow cause they run.

Thank you so fucking much, Gingie.

"This is Commissioner Gordon."

Gordon, huh? That explains a lot.

"You have a red-haired daughter, right?"

"I do but who is this? Are you telling me my Babs is in danger?"

"Fuck, no. Gingie's fine, Papa Wolf."

"You must be Phoenix. I understand why my daughter and son-in-law call you Firecracker."

God. He sounds like the best Dad.

"I didn't intend for this to be a fucking social call, dude! Some asshole was going to..." I can't say the word without feeling like I'm going to puke so I put it a little differently. "Force himself on me."

"So you would be calling to report an attempted rape?"

I gag. "You mind not saying that word? It's a four-letter word that even I don't like using."

Man, I swear I can feel the shock in his momentary silence.

"I'll come with my partner and pick you up."

However that may have intended to work out, I'm soon in front of a very serious looking Bruce and a concerned Gingie.

Before I can say a word, Bruce says in a kind of scary voice "Heather, we need to have a talk."

I gulp nervously, fighting the urge to get away because, oh, fuck, he knows. Everything.

So clearly he is, as I put it once, a detective or some shit. But that's not advertised.

I put a few pieces together then smirk as a sudden realization comes to me. "So Batman wants to shoot the shit with me of all people? I'm flattered."

He narrows his eyes and scowls as I face him, now wearing a grin that can only be described as shit eating.

Bravado. It can be an excellent thing to go with.


	7. Chapter 6

"You're Heather Smith."

"I don't use that name anymore, Bruce-bag."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Your name isn't Phoenix Storm."

"I chose it, it's mine!"

"You were born in Park Slope, Brooklyn."

"It may not have been into a fucking ostentatious manor but it was, at one point, home."

"Your parents abandoned you when you were 10."

I scowl. "That was something known, you mook. Ditto for the fact that I got fostered by the fucking Pierces. What else do you feel the sudden need to rehash, asshole?"

"You were burned on your arms and sexually assaulted by William Pierce."

I clench then un-clench my fists but, before I can say anything, I end up puking my guts out, just missing Bruce and Gingie's shoes.

Gingie glares at Bruce. "You just had to push her, didn't you? Don't you damn dare have Alfred clean this! You should clean Firecracker's puke."

She gently takes me by the right hand and, soon, she's helping me clean myself up kinda how I imagine a Mom would, though I can't say she really feels like a Mom. More like a big sister, really.

I feel my eyes well up and I decide to let the tears fall as I whisper under my breath that I never had a sister before.

She smiles and I know that she heard me. "Well, Firecracker, you do now."

I wipe my tears away. "Damn it, Gingie, don't make me cry again. I don't really wanna have to."

"Well, I can try not to but I should tell you not to be emotionally constipated like Bruce."

I laugh. "Well, I can try to work on it." I avert my eyes then shrug my shoulders. "You kinda learn to numb yourself when you're a foster. It just becomes easier not to care."

"Firecracker. Look at me."

I do, though kinda slowly and finding myself feeling a little nervous.

"Abuse is never okay. Especially when it's by people who are supposed to look out for you."

"But..."

"But nothing."

I snort. "Nothing is what I was made to feel like. If I'da complained, it would only further enforce my label of "damaged" making me harder to place with whatever new family I'd be put with. So, like a good little girl, I suffered in silence. It's not like I'd magically be placed with my birth family. I don't know where those assholes are and I'm not sure I wanna know anyway."

"That's why you changed your name. You chose Phoenix because you faced fire and survived."

I nod. "The bird that rises from its own ashes to be born again. The fact that it sounds pretty badass was a bonus. I wanted a name that made me seem tough enough not to go and mess with."

"Why Storm?"

I breathe out slowly then, finding myself feeling a little reluctant, start to tell her... "They are brothers and, truth be told, I wanted some. I know that I do now but I don't have any intention of changing my name."

"Well, New Zealand is pretty cool."

"Yeah, if it's good enough for the Lord of the Rings movies, it's sure as hell good enough for me."

"That's the spirit!"

I run one hand through my hair. "Now, changing the subject here. When can I expect to get used to this place? I mean, a girl could get lost here."

"In the bathroom?"

I shove her lightly then lead her out. "No, in this fucking manor! It's so ostentatious, it has a butler straight out of Downton fucking Abbey!"

Alfred shows up. "Well, miss, surely you know Jeeves was only a valet."

I laugh nervously then roll my eyes. "Oh, I am pretty well-read. THEY made sure of that."

"They, miss?"

"My foster parents. Reading fantasy was a way, though small, of rebellion. Especially if there was magic involved. It was considered frivolous and, as such, "inappropriate for consumption". Classics were in high regard, though not the film adaptations."

"They controlled what you read?"

"You used to work in a library, didn't you, Gingie?"

"I did, yes, Firecracker. How did you..."

I cut her off with a hug whiwhich I can tell she's questioningly returning then, after I let go, I grin at her, wide and toothy. "Some librarians in Brooklyn were kinda like Moms to me. They would slip me fantasy. Illicit as the Pierces considered it to be, it was always a good escape. A portal of sorts, no, like I was doing the porting to another world. A better one, where I could be accepted for who I was and what I could do."

I reach into my pocket for my wallet then open it, pull out my library card and show it to her. "In fact, I still call this my passport. My magic carpet, though I never used that phrase around the Pierces."

She grins. "I like it though. You got your whole new world."

I put the card back in my wallet, close it and put it back in my pocket then scuff with my right foot. "Yeah, but I don't really like Disney's _Aladdin_. The original story says he was Chinese.*"

"Robin Williams still made a good genie.**"

"Yep. The now dead Robin."

Jason shows up.*** "Hey, Nyx and Barbie. One of you mind telling me what I missed?"

"Geez, Jay-Todd, you call her Barbie?"

* * *

*This is 100 percent true.

**This, on the other hand, is obviously a matter of opinion.

***Yes, his timing was 100 percent on purpose.


	8. Chapter 7

After he's filled in by Gingie, a smirk appears on Jay-Todd's face. "So did Bruce clean up the puke?"

He appears. "Alfred heard our talk and he supervised while I did, indeed, do the cleaning you, Babs, rightfully said I should do. Phoenix?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. Aren't you hot in that hoodie?"

I breathe out slowly then take it off and, after tying it around my waist, roll up my sleeves so my burn scarred shoulders show. "Happy? Or should I show you the ones on my back too? What can I say, that fucking bastard really liked fire."

"Phoenix, I can assure you that seeing these does not make me happy. If anything, it makes me want to do everything in my power to make sure he never gets his hands on you again."

I put my sleeves back down. "You'd do that for me? But you're a billionaire and I'm nobody."

He gets down so he's eye level with me then takes my hands in his. "Phoenix. Never say that again, do you hear me? You are not nobody and you'll never have to be ever again. Life starts now."

I raise one eyebrow. "You listen to Three Days Grace?" A grin spreads across my face. "I always liked that track."

"It's a song?"

I take my hands from his and he gets up. "Really?"

Jay-Todd rolls his eyes. "Yeah, really? Geez, Bruce, it's a whole fucking album with the title track you mentioned being the last one. Adam Gontier's pretty awesome. Though that's really beside the point."

Using his right hand, he gently rolls my sleeves back up so the scars are visible again. "You got these pretty recently, didn't you, Nyx?"

My eyes darken. "Yeah, they date back to three days before I first met you."

His eyes widen.

I breathe out slowly. "I fucking hated them at first but now I think of them as the burns I got from going through hell. Makes me hate them a little less."

"Firecracker, what about the ones on your back?"

"Those came earlier. I "didn't do my chores right" so he used an..." I shake away the memory threatening to come.

"That fucking bastard used an iron, didn't he?"

I don't nod, I just pull up my shirt and show him.

"There's cigarette burns here too."

I put my shirt back down. "Yeah, those would be from Mrs. Pierce for "being a little bitch who led her man on". Never did find out what kid they were and I can't say I really give a shit anyway. I just know it hurt and they laughed when I screamed. When they fell asleep, I treated them as best I could with a cold washcloth. Did that with all my burns, really."

"I trust the washcloth was clean?"

I barely keep from startling then snort. "Please. They'd have noticed a clean one, even though I was the one doing the laundry. As for trying to heal them with my power...It hurt so I stopped, afraid I was somehow healing them wrong."

"You've been through rather a lot, haven't you, miss?" He puts his hand on my right shoulder. "However, you've made it through and no one can take that from you."

I fidget, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. "That's nice and all, Jeeves, but it seems kinda funny coming from a Brit. I mean, you guys are known for your stiff upper lips. Sodding bollocks, govna."

He removes his hand from my shoulder then sniffs. "Such language!"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Bad form or some shit. I didn't grow up in England, so all I know about it comes from literature. Dickens, mostly, which probably means said knowledge is antiquated. Well, I do know some about it that's not from literature and..."

I scuff. "Brexit is still a sore subject, I'm guessing?"

Alfred looks askance at me. "I may be from a people that "keep calm and carry on" but I have my limits. That is all I am going to say regarding the subject of Brexit. I'll leave videos on that matter to another of my countrymen."

He watches John Oliver?

I do my best impression of him. "Holy shit!"

Alfred chuckles. "That is how he'd put it, in his way, sounding rather like a Brummie who can't make up his mind."

I shrug one shoulder. "Hey, now. Tolkien was a Brummie. If Joliver, as we Brooklyners call him, in our way, is one then he's in good company.*"

"You do tend to smoosh words together, Phoenix."

I snort. "That's part of Brooklynese which, since you don't seem to know, is a unique blend of three languages." I count on my fingers for emphasis. "Irish, Italian and Yiddish."

"Hell of a blend, Nyx."

My grin widens. "Yes."

I shake one finger. "And don't any of youse forget it."

Well, the Brooklyn in my voice certainly came on strong when I said that. Not like I mind but it usually comes on that strong when I'm angry.

I rub my arms as I remember trying to defend myself against Mrs. Pierce's allegation that I "led her man on" and how I kept getting angrier and angrier because, no matter what I said, she wouldn't listen. It culminated with me getting those cigarette burns and, afterwards, getting locked in the basement, with no light, for about an hour and a half.

Needless to say, attempts to port out did not work.

God, I hate remembering those days with the Pierces.

Now, you're prolly wondering about my birth parents.

My Mom, if she can be called that, never seemed to notice me.

Dad, on the other hand, well, he wasn't home all that much. He was a workaholic and, looking back, I'm pretty sure he was having an affair.

To answer the question I'm sure you're gonna ask next, neither of them, as far as I know, were Metas. I don't have a fucking clue where my powers came from but when I showed them to my parents, Mom seemed scared and Dad seemed almost embarrassed somehow.

As I'm sure you can imagine, both reactions made me feel like I'd done something wrong. Almost like I should feel ashamed.

So, as you might expect, I kept my powers a secret.

I sure as hell didn't show them to the Pierces. I don't even want to think about what they would have done!

Though I did picture them making me heal for money. Money I wouldn't get a cent of. Money used so they can live in the lap of luxury while I, on the other hand, continue getting treated like I'm nothing more than a stone in their shoes.

Not like anyone would notice. They're good at covering their shit, I'll give them that.

Now, as for siblings, this is my first time having any. I always pictured myself having brothers, particularly older ones who'd look out for me.

Girls always gave me shit. I never really felt like I fit in with them.

I could talk music with guys, at least the ones that didn't call me a poser. Leave me feeling like I could not and would never measure up, just because I'm a girl.

A girl who absolutely fucking hated it when they'd use the word pussy. The type assholes would call mouthy when, since I always felt silenced with the Pierces, all I felt I was trying to do was find my voice.

The crap I got for being a foster isn't something I'm gonna mention, so don't even ask.

Yes, you'd be right in guessing I didn't really like school. I mean, it wasn't all bad but it mostly sucked.

I'd say I looked forward to going back but that would be a lie. I'd get punished by the Pierces for lying, so I'm pretty truthful, though, if necessary, I'd lie about my powers.

Kinda feels weird having my new fam be so accepting of them. Like it doesn't change how they see me.

I do like it but part of me feels a little suspicious of how nice they are. Like I shouldn't get comfortable enough to let my guard down.

At least not completely. Not yet.

*Yes, he is.


	9. Chapter 8

I wake up and find myself looking around nervously, breathing a little heavily.

"Bad dream, Nyx?"

I calm myself down. "Yeah, but based on memory."

"I get those too." He sits beside me. "It happens when you've been dead."

I huff. "Geez, you're so casual about it. I totally have the song for you though."

I grab my iPod and play Like a Storm's Six Feet Under*.

He grins once it's finished. "That was pretty fucking awesome, little sis."

God, I love being called that. Knowing that I'm a sister and the warm feeling that comes with it.

"No problem, big bro."

He looks at me. "That's the first time you've called me that. Not that I'm complaining but, Nyx, what took you so long?"

I breathe out slowly. "Fear, I guess. I never really felt I had a family. Maybe it's a thing when you're a foster. Never really feeling like it's something you can call your own. I know I have one now but I guess it hasn't really set in yet." I don't say it feels too good to be true even though, to be honest, it kinda does.

"Well, Nyx, your new family isn't temporary."

I throw my hands up in the air, feeling somewhat exasperated. "I know that!"

"But part of you's still unconvinced?"

I don't say a word, I just nod then get up to get dressed.

A few minutes later, I come back wearing my Three Days Grace T-shirt and black jeans. I did consider wearing my Linkin Park T-shirt but just looking at it kinda bums me out because, damn it, I miss Chester.

When I come back, Jason gets up. "I bet you listened to Home a lot of fucking times."

I laugh. "Yeah, I have it memorized."

I don't say I kept the Pierces from knowing I listened to bands like Three Days Grace. Yes, I rebelled through music too.

God, they had so many fucking rules.

I did say they were controlling shits. Enough that another song I have memorized is Shinedown's I'm Not Alright.

"Were you the Pierce's only foster?"

"I've spent 12 years of my life as an only child. Prolly why family feels like a foreign concept to me. I mean, I knew what it was, it just kinds eluded me. Hell, I felt it practically fucking excluded me! Now, I have one to call my own and..."

I shrug my shoulders. "Guess it just feels like something that I need to get used to. I mean, going from being an only child to having 3 brothers and a sister feels, to be honest, fucking crazy! It almost feels like it's someone else's life or some reality show."

Jay-Todd shoves me lightly. "Well, Nyx, this is your regularly scheduled programming. I'll keep you posted if it cuts to commercial."

I roll my eyes. "So nice of you."

I hate advertisements. I especially hated commercials with happy families. I used to like them but, as I got older, I began to feel like they were mocking me. Teasing me with what I didn't and wasn't sure I'd ever have. But enough of that.

"Jay-Todd, what did you mean you've been dead?"

He curses under his breath. "That's not a good story, Nyx. How about we go to the library and you can get some good ones?"

"If it's not a good story, why did you mention it in the first place?"

His eyes darken."It's not important, Nyx."

His tone makes me decide to drop it. "Shit happened but you're here now. Like me."

He smiles. "Yeah, like you. So you want to go?"

My eyes brighten at the idea. "Sure."

After I grab my hoodie and tie it around my waist, we're on our way.

When we arrive, I curse. "I forgot to bring a book bag."

He laughs. "I'll help you with carrying some. Just don't get too many."

"Too many being more than both of us can carry."

"Yes."

Soon, I'm registering for a library card. Got to say it feels good seeing my new name on it.

I get Cornelia Funke's Inkheart trilogy, O.R Melling's Chronicles of Faerie, and the Lunar Chronicles including Fairest, Stars Above and the two graphic novels. I felt like a fantasy binge so I fucking went for a fifteen book one. Feels good.

Now all I have to do is fight the urge to port to Jay-Todd's...I mean home.

That place is home now.

Not because of where it is, but because of who I share it with.

Jason. One of my three big brothers.

* * *

*Definitely worth looking up as Angel with a Shotgun is, shall we say, fucking overused.


	10. Chapter 9

I'm at Wayne Manor when Tim shows up. "Hey, Firebird. Wanna talk fantasy?"

My eyes light up. "Sure."

I've gotta say it feels nice to be happy about something.

He leads me to his room and, when I arrive, I can't help but grin at the fact that a lot of things in it make obvious, even if it's something I already knew. Like me, he's a big reader.

"So what fantasy have you read recently?"

I run one hand through my hair, never believing I'd have this conversation, let alone with family. "Cornelia Funke's Inkheart trilogy."

"Excellent choice. There's a movie of book one in that."

"Oh. Is it good?"

"Personally, I like the book a little better. Now, with the Lord of the Rings, both the books and the movies were good. Who's your favorite character? Mine's Frodo."

"Gandalf. Grey, not white."

"Ian McKellen is pretty cool."

"What, because he's British? I mean, I'm a mutt but, yes, I see his appeal. He's a knight!"

"And gay, not that there's anything wrong with that. So's the guy who plays Dumbledore."

I shrug one shoulder. "Personally, I have a good gay-dar. I guess it's what happens when you grow up in the Slope. I mean, it is home to the Pride Parade."

"That's nice but I think we're getting off topic."

I laugh nervously. "My mind wanders sometimes, T-bird. Don't fault me, bro."

He smiles. "I won't, sis. Now..." He pulls a copy of Inkheart from off of one his shelves. "Are we still talking about this book and its sequels?"

"I guess. Unless you want to choose a new book, be it part of a series or not?"

He puts back Inkheart and pulls out Eragon. "Have you read the Inheritance cycle?"

"Last name like Drake, of course you like dragons. I have but, Geez, those are more brick length. Gork, the Teenage Dragon is also good."

He laughs. "That sounds interesting. I'm guessing the author's a local."

"Yeah, Gabe Hudson's from Brooklyn."

"I'll have to put it on my To Read list then. You Brooklyners are a special breed."

His words make me feel warm. I like being his little sister a lot.

So music I can talk with Jason, books with Tim, but what with Dick?

"Hey, Firecracker."

Speak of the acro...I mean, aerialist.

"Hey, other brother. I was just wondering what I could talk with you."

"How about flying, sis. I do mine on the trapeze."

"Well, since I can't talk while I'm flying, I can't exactly hold that against you, now can I?"

"Especially not when in the form of a pigeon."

"Like I'd even bother shifting into one of those rats with wings! I mean, I like you but no. Fuck, no. To my favorite bird, the peregrine falcon, those are tasty."

He laughs. "Okay."

He leads me to a workout room then looks at me. "So how old were you when you flew for the first time?"

"10. You?"

"4."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Firecracker, I took my first steps on a high wire. Honestly, have you ever been to the circus?"

When he finds out that I have not, he looks scandalized. "What on Earth was your childhood like?"

"Pretty lonely."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's no big."

"Yes, it is. Neglect is considered abuse too, Firecracker. I'm a cop in Blüdhaven, so I know that."

"You don't really look like a cop."

"I've heard that before. My partner teases me about my baby face. Hell, most of the the department does. I'm pretty used to it by now."

"And I've had words used as weapons against me. I don't like being teased, personally."

He puts one arm around me. "You're right. Getting teased can be no fun. It's different though, Firecracker, when you know they're laughing with you."

"Guess I'll just have to take your word for it. I'd deal with bullies and then listen to Three Days Grace's Unbreakable Heart. That song definitely helped. If I ever met Adam Gontier, I'd totally thank him for writing it. Music like that felt like a refuge for me. Like an escape from my fucked up life."

Jason and Tim show up, making me grin. "Look at that. I have all my brothers with me now."

Soon, I have a picture of me with them, Bruce, Alfred and Gingie on my cell phone and, yes, it makes me feel warm.

I also really fucking like the picture because, hey, it's me with my family, as they know, so guess what my wallpaper is?

Exactly. Bunny ears and all.*

*Dick's giving bunny ears to Tim and Phoenix, who's giving them to Jason and Babs while Tim gives bunny ears to Dick. Alfred and Bruce are looking on


End file.
